


Haruka

by DaisyIfYouHave



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: But shouldn't we all, F/F, Gen, This is the niche content you come to the internet for, really - Freeform, warning for clowning on the creator of SM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 21:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16463075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyIfYouHave/pseuds/DaisyIfYouHave
Summary: This is literally a Balto rewrite/Au to make it gay and harumichi *fingerguns* Should be an update a month.





	Haruka

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, and I say that in a long and storied history of dumb things you’ve done.” Mina looked down at Haruka from her perch.

Haruka shook her head. “Mina, someone has to get that medicine back to Nome. I know I’m the fastest dog here. Someone has to save those kids.”

Mina fluttered down next to Haruka. “Someone has to impress Michiru, too, am I right?”

Haruka felt a sting of embarrassment, and turned her head. “It isn’t that way, Mina. I–I really want to do this.”

But it had started off that way, hadn’t it? Haruka had always thought Michiru was beautiful, and the attitude was shared by a good many other dogs in Nome. She was purebred, and elegant looking, like a statue, and she belonged to one of the finest families in town.

Haruka, on the other hand, was a half-dog half-wolf mutt, something neither side wanted or could even define, and lived on the edges of Nome with a goose who couldn’t be bothered to fly south.

But it was nice to dream, and sometimes she let herself, in the way she sometimes dreamed of being a nice dog with a soft bed by a warm fire, who pulled a sled and who people patted on the head and told she was a good girl.

It had been a day like any other when Haruka came nose to nose with Michiru, after years of staring at her wistfully.

For starters, Mina had been annoyed.

“Every single time they have a race, you run around like you’re in it.” Mina flew over to where Haruka was watching closely for the two mile marker, ears pointed toward the crowd, wondering which one of the sled teams was in front. “And i have to chase you, to make sure your dumb lesbian ass doesn’t get–”

“Maybe someday I will be in, Mina.” Haruka had ignored her again, the way she always did on race day, too excited by the sheer idea of it to be bothered by Mina’s irritation.

“Sure, okay, when that happens, give me a call, I’ll watch you get stepped on.”

The two mile marker went off, and Haruka had nearly jumped out of her skin with excitement, barrelling down toward the town where no one loved her.

There was something about running that had always filled Haruka with delight, the unbridled joy of feeling her large paws in the snow, the way they spread on the cold and kept her above it, the way her powerful muscles catapulted her forward.

She felt good at something.

It was no different today, the one-mile marker going off, Mina struggling to keep up with her as she raced toward the finish line, just to see the end of the race, just to imagine for one moment what it might be like to be the winner.

Michiru was there. It was foolish to expect that she wouldn’t be–her girl loved sled dog racing, and in fact, was playing on a little sled across the lane from Haruka and Mina, telling Michiru to mush, Michiru delicately padding her way through the snow with elegance, and a soft fondness Haruka was sure she didn’t show many people.

Then the wind picked up.

It caught the edge of Hotaru’s hat, sending the brown cap sailing into the middle of the run where the dogs were heading, faster and faster, bracing themselves against the leather that held them to their sleds.

Haruka’s eyes flicked quickly over where Hotaru began running toward her hat, heedless of the danger, and watched Michiru step calmly but firmly in front of her, even as she tried to argue.

The little girl loved that hat.

Mina’s wing touched Haruka’s arm. “Don’t!”

But it was too late, because no sooner had her wing touched Haruka’s arm than Haruka was off, diving forward, running alongside the sled team. She gained and gained on Naoko, the champion of the last three years and the undisputed queen of Nome, Alaska. Haruka would like to say that all the thought of in the moment was that little girl’s hat, and while that may have been true when she jumped into the race, it was no longer true, as she ran.

Finally she was racing. Finally she could feel the speed, and the power, and the rough, beautiful energy of competition, the aching wonder of gaining on this dog that was supposed to be so fast, and so great, and Haruka, the worthless wolf-dog, was gaining on her.

Granted, she wasn’t carrying a sled, but Haruka took her victories where she could.

Naoko snarled and snapped at her, and everything became one, in a perfect moment, her teeth closing over the edge of the hat, the second jump to the other side of the run, the sound of the sled whooshing behind her. She could feel like wind off it, and the cheer of the people in the sideline, but the cheer she felt was all for her, and her heart burst with a swell of love as Hotaru’s arms closed around her neck.

She didn’t even hear Mina screaming about how she was an idiot looking to get killed. She couldn’t hear the dogs bowing and scraping at Naoko’s feet, telling her that she was the greatest dog to ever run. All she heard was the cheer, and the beat of her own heart.

“Thank you! What a crazy thing to do,” Hotaru spoke into her heavy fur, and Haruka beamed as Hotaru pulled away. “Showing off for a pretty girl.”

Haruka gave a weak shrug of embarrassment, and Michiru favored her with a kind look.

There was a slap across her muzzle before she could respond, and she backed up.

“Go away!” A man continued to swat at her. “Go!” He kicked snow in Haruka’s face, and she turned to leave, the swell of happiness in her heart melting away like a bit of ice in the August sun.

“She might bite you honey. She’s half wolf.”

It was all people ever saw.

But Hotaru hadn’t seen it that way, that day, Haruka thought, as she shuffled her way toward the starting line, trying to avoid as many people as possible. She had to race. She had to help. There was one person in this town, at least, who saw that she was decent. And she was going to do what she could.

“Haruka,” Mina’s voice got quiet, and gentle, in that way that only ever made Haruka worry about what was coming next, “even if you win, they won’t let you be on the team.”

“They have to, if I’m the fastest!” She whirled and looked at Mina, her eyes full of emotion, “It has to be about those kids!”

“I hope you’re right, Haruka.” She shook her head.

She looked across the square as she walked, and saw Michiru sitting there sadly, and their eyes met.

Michiru had never given much thought to the wolf-dog that lived on the edge of the town, if she was being honest with herself, which she was from time to time. That is, until the moment when she had gallantly and nimbly jumped in front of Naoko’s sled to rescue Hotaru’s new musher’s hat. Hotaru had loved her. Hotaru thought her a hero, and Michiru could see in Haruka’s eyes that it was all the medal she needed.

She noticed that she had a certain rough handsomeness to her, like a wood table that was just a bit unfinished, unsanded at the edges but strongly built.

“You hurt her feelings!” Hotaru pouted as her father waved Haruka away from her, and Michiru saw that it was true, in the way that her sweet and sensitive girl often was–Haruka’s head slumped toward the snow as she softly padded away from the crowd, her tail tucked, the goose who was constantly with her walking alongside her.

“Michiru.” The voice could only be Naoko’s, full of arrogance and certainty.

“Congratulations.” Michiru gave a small nod. “Though it seems hardly that you need notice of your own accomplishment.”

Naoko gave a chuckle. “Yeah, I am pretty great. No one would question. But,” she slipped up next to Michiru, “We should go celebrate. I know where we can get a few bones…maybe some sausages.”

Michiru gave a polite shake of her head. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly. You do have a crowd to appease, you know, and I find myself rather lacking in appetite.”

She walked away, her head firmly forward, and heard Naoko behind her.

“Maybe you prefer wolf.” She growled it, annoyed and angry.

“Michiru!” Hotaru called happily, “It’s time to go home! Come on, girl!”

“Yes well,” Michiru did not look back at her, “perhaps we shall delve into the mysteries of this universe at another time. My girl is calling.”

Michiru felt herself fill with disgust and revulsion, just under the veneer of politeness and sophistication she had been bred to. She was a fine dog from a bloodline of champions, and ending up in Nome is not what she had assumed her life would become. Gifted to a family heading out to run business in Nome, she had in some ways melded into life here.

But she could not, and would not, see what the other dogs saw in Naoko. Michiru knew that moment, when pride became arrogance, when competition became cruelty, and Naoko had long passed it. Naoko felt Michiru belonged to her, the prettiest dog in town a trophy for her to win.

Michiru was quite having none of it.

She remembered that exchange, watching from the sidelines this morning, Naoko and the other dogs lined up and waiting for the gun. If they weren’t the fastest, there would be nothing else to be done for Hotaru. If they weren’t the best, all of the children would be lost.

“She’s going to save the entire town!” Her tiny friend Mamoru, the only other dog who could be said, somewhat, to have come from a life like her own, looked up at Michiru with glee, “She’s just wonderful!”

“There is rather a team, Mamoru.” She sighed.

Mamoru scowled at her. “Why do you not respect the heroism and dignity of a maiden who runs through ice filled caverns to save those she loves? Why no attention for those who fight on through the–”

“Because,” Yaten snooted around, delighting in the gossip, “Michiru is running around with Haruka.”

Michiru said nothing, even as Mamoru looked at her in confusion and disgust.

“They were seen entering the boiler room together, and leaving together, and,” Yaten vibrated with joy in the take, in pinning Michiru to the wall, “don’t bother to deny it, there were multiple witnesses.”

Michiru gave a shrug. “Then I shan’t bother.”

Yaten and Mamoru gave exaggerated gasps, and Michiru thought she saw a too-large track in the snow, and her heart raced.

Haruka had left that day with her head bowed, but even Michiru could not have imagined he heaviness in her heart. But Mina knew. Mina had always known. It felt a curse that had been laid upon her by her parents, their sins visited upon her. From the time she was a puppy, there had never been a place for her, and when her mother had been shot, well…that was the end of that.

And then Mina had found her.

Haruka had always wanted a home and a family, to be someone’s dog, someone’s good girl, but snow being kicked in her face was all she could expect from this world, and it broke Mina’s heart to watch her throw herself against the same wall again and again.

Mina walked by her side. “Haruka, it’s just…” Mina desperately clawed for something to say, anything that would make it better. “They’re a bunch of fucking–”

“Michiru!” her girl was calling, and Mina watched Haruka’s heart call with it, ready to slam itself the wall again.

She did not even have time to tell her to stop before Haruka was running, always running, and nearly plowed right into Michiru, their noses meeting softly.

Mina saw Haruka following in her mother’s footsteps, in that moment, and it gave her a shiver. Haruka was too bold, and she was going to end up a scruffy rug.

“Michiru, I–” She tried to make herself small, to look non threatening, to look like a dog.

“Michiru! Michiru, come on girl!” Hotaru called to her again, but thankfully did not call out Haruka’s name, did not alert her parents to Haruka’s presence.

Michiru looked away for one moment, and Haruka ran back into the alley, tucked behind the trash. She nosed into the alleyway for a moment, and then ran back to her family as Haruka watched solemnly.

“Haruka,” she put her wing reassuringly on her shoulder, “there are some thing even I, in all my greatness, can’t fix.”

It pained her to say it, that there was no way she could make Haruka a dog they would love, no way she could give her the kind of home she desired. She’d tried, when Haruka was younger, teaching her commands in human, to show them how good she could sit and stay and come. She even stolen a bit of ribbon to put around her neck, once, to try and see if anyone would bring her in for Christmas. But all there ever was were slammed doors in her face and commands to get, and so Mina had stopped being the one to hurt her.

“I know,” Haruka replied quietly.

“You want a goose girlfriend? I know a few, be happy to–”

Haruka chuckled weakly.

“Shame about the team, Hanukkah.” Naoko’s voice growled behind her, and Mina felt every feather on her back stand up.

She tried to push Haruka along. “Go, go, keep it moving, we’ll all live through this.”

But Haruka was hurt, and Haruka was sad, and so Haruka was spoiling for a fight, and whirled around to Naoko.

“My name’s Haruka.” She was already in attack stance, tail bristling.

“She also answers to YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” She called to the two dogs, neither of which paid her any mind.

Naoko laughed as her triad of devoted followers edged into the alleyway behind her. “Oh that’s right. Haruka the half-breed. What about you, goose?” She sidled up next to Mina, ignoring Haruka’s low growl, “You a half-breed too?”

Mina, in this moment, ignored her own advice. “You can be as much of a jackass as you want, it won’t keep you from being replaced someday. And then you’ll just be an old dog, that nobody loves. And you know that, don’t you?”

It was stupid, and Mina knew it was stupid as it came out of her beak, but she wanted to bite back in her own way, wanted to make Naoko admit that the kernel of her own cruelty was the same as Haruka’s self-deprecation. That she didn’t think she was enough.

Confirmation that it was a stupid thing to say came quickly, in the form of Naoko thrusting her into an old pot, to the laughs and delight of her team of followers.

“Part chicken,” she snickered, as the dogs behind her told her how wonderful and witty and intelligent she was, more background noise than any actual words.

Haruka ran in front of the pot. “Leave her alone!” She took the lid off.

Naoko had gotten under her fur, and she knew it, and she strutted around proudly. “Hey Haruka,” She laughed, smacking Haruka with her tail, “I have a message for your mother.”

She gave a loud and discordant howl, nothing of the sinuous pitches Haruka had heard as a puppy, and Mina was not sure if it was mockery or if Naoko simply could not. She leaned toward not.

Haruka took a deep breath, and Mina watched her slowly counting. Haruka was quick to anger, and it occurred to Mina that Haruka might not see the inherent wisdom of a wolf-dog and a goose taking on four very strong sled dogs. Her body was tight, her ears lowered, and Mina made a grab for her tail.

“Haruka, don’t. Fucking.” She pulled as hard as she could, but Haruka did not move back a step. “You know what’s REALLY going to make you a winner, Bud? Not getting killed! We’ll drop a rock on their heads later, just–”

Naoko stopped howling and grinned, looking straight at Haruka. “Pow.”

Mina did not have time to take a breath before Haruka leapt toward Naoko, all the pain and hurt of everything that had happened from the day her mother was killed brought to bear in this one moment. Like many decisions made on the spur of emotion, she paid for it dearly, every hit she landed paid back four fold, and Mina honked and pecked at any tail that came loose, trying to get Haruka away, hoping they didn’t just kill her in this alleyway.

There were small signs that there was still goodness in the world, and perhaps even Naoko, in that she stopped as Haruka lay in the snow, still trying to fight.

“Knock it off!” She called to the three, “She’s not even a challenge.”

Haruka tried to fight her way to her feet, and Mina ran toward her, pushing her back into the snow, hissing at her. “She who slinks and runs away lives to fight another day HARUKA STAY DOWN.”

Naoko kicked snow over Haruka’s head as she walked away the three trailing behind her, and even as they left, Mina could hear them whispering about Naoko was a monster, but she also noticed they followed right behind.

“If you were as quick as your temper, you would be the best sled dog in Nome.” Mina said, helping her up, and she said nothing in return.

And yet, here Haruka was, standing at the ready to race, ready to run with dogs that wanted to hurt her for a town that hated her.

That was the tragedy of the little wolf-dog puppy she’d found next to her dead mother all those years ago, is she truly believed it was her fault. That if she was just good enough, or loveable enough, or fast enough, they would have to love her. That it was some fault in herself, and not in the people from this shit town.

Mina, in her darkest moments, realized she didn’t care if their children died. They didn’t care about the dog she loved, why should she care about their individual losses?

It made her furious.

“Do you not understand?? They don’t care about you! You think you would fucking LEARN, Haruka.” She pulled out a feather and spit it to the snow.

“Hotaru thought I was nice.” Haruka said it determinedly but softly, almost to herself. “Michiru thought I was good.”

Mina realized she was talking to herself and gave a heavy sigh, as Haruka hunkered down, waiting, and felt a slight twinge in her back.

It had hurt. Haruka had tried not to show how much, when she staggered to her feet, for the twin reasons not wanting to worry Mina and not wanting to hear her lecture. It frustrated her, Haruka knew, that she couldn’t move in Haruka’s world in any way that would protect her. She was smaller and weaker than everyone Haruka found herself opposed to, and she could not so much as lick Haruka’s wounds for her when she got into these messes.

Four against one was pretty stupid, even for her, Haruka admitted to herself.

Sometimes she just didn’t think. That, among other things, was her problem. Sometimes it felt like the only thing she could be was angry, that no one would ever understand if she came forward with anything other than fangs bared.

But she didn’t always feel angry. Sometimes she just felt sad, and it just wasn’t safe to be sad.

She slowly loped across the wide expanse of snow between Nome and the place where she slept, that she supposed was home, if she had one. An old ship had been destroyed by pack ice and hauled up onto land, picked free of anything of value, and simply left to rot a few miles out of town.

Luckily, the opportunities for rot were less in Nome, the temperature being what it generally was, and so Haruka had sheltered here since the day Mina found her.

As she walked up to the ship, there was a high howl in the air, not the off-key cacophony that Naoko and the others had put forth, but that high and lonesome sound, calling out to her like a single beacon, and Haruka shook her head and ignored it.

“Haruka,” Mina shuffled alongside her, “you are more than the things you’re not, you know.”

It stung like the bite on her ear, when Mina tried to reassure her. Haruka did not know how to tell her that she saw no value in trying with the wolves, that she had no expectation that it would be any different from the scorn she had been shown in the world of dogs.

She was not a dog, and she never would be, not really. She felt more a dog than a wolf, and a dog’s life was the one she desired, but there was still something very wolfish about her, and she wanted those parts of herself. She loved them. Her big paws, her unrefined snout, her song to the moon on the rare chances she gave it. But there was no space for that, no room to be a wolfish dog, and so she simply sighed and climbed aboard her sad beached ship, cracked and torn by the weather.

Her soul felt heavy in a way that could not be explained by the scrap in the alleyway. She’d been in worse fights before, and her body was strong and resilient. If only her heart could make the same claim. She was not sure if the way it was easily bruised was the fault of her wolf side or her dog side, but from what she had seen, she suspected it was specific to her alone, like the strange cowlicks in her fur.

Her face down, she walked back to the scraps of fabric that served as her bed.

Mina walked in front of her, chatting. “Hey! Let’s go chase the cat out behind the butcher’s! I owe him a peck or two.”

Haruka walked right past her, not even lifting her head.

Mina fluttered in front of her again, dropping a bone that still had a few sinews left on it. “For you, my disgusting friend!”

Haruka paid her no mind, just sighed and went to the little shelter on the boat she had created for herself, and nosed under the cover of a mothworn blanket.

Mina walked out in front of her. “From exotic isles, I bring you: A sensual celebration of a dance!”

She waved her tail in Haruka’s face, winking over her shoulder, ruffling her wings above her head and humming a sexy tune into the air, but Haruka did not even give a chuckle.

Mina dropped her wings, looked at Haruka, and sighed, sitting down next to her in her box of sadness and momentary despair. She set her hand on Haruka’s head.

“I know what you are, even if no one else does, Bud.”

Overhead, geese honked in the sky, continuing their migration, Haruka and Mina silently watching them go by.

“Do you ever think about going home?” Haruka asked, a little afraid she would say yes, a little guilty that she would say no.

“And leave you on your own? Please.” Mina got up and walked across the deck of the boat, chuckling to herself, “You’d last one day.”

“Oh yeah,” Haruka gave a small smile, “I’m definitely the one who needs help.”

“I know, that’s what I just said! Are you deaf, too?”

Haruka sighed, but a little easier this time. It was true, and would always be true, she figured that she was on the outside of any world she wanted to be in, but it was also true that she had those who loved her, for whatever sort of wolfish dog she was, and that gave her the thin and dangerous hope that maybe someday, others could see the hero in her too. The dog worth loving.

The sun began to set over the tiny town of Nome, Alaska, and Haruka knew that tomorrow would be another day, maybe even a better one, and at the least, her haunche wouldn’t hurt so badly.

She stuck her nose up.

There was a faint smell on the air, and Haruka grinned as she took it in deep, rising slowly to her feet.. “I smell herring.”

“Oh god.” Was all Mina said, before being bowled over by an excited polar bear, nearly as round as she was tall.

“Mina!!!” She hugged the goose tightly, pressing her deep into her fur. “I’m so happy to see you!!”

“You saw me yesterday.” Mina said, muffled by heavy fur, “Usagi, just–a little–”

But whatever protest Mina was about to give, it was unnecessary. Usagi dropped Mina to the floor of the boat and ran over to Haruka, licking her with as much enthusiasm as saliva, and Usagi had boundless enthusiasm.

“You’re hurt!!” She worried over her, and even began to cry a little. “Oh Haruka!!”

“It’s not serious,” Haruka wiped a bit of slobber off her face, “I promise.”

In this small group of those who lived outside of the worlds they rightfully belonged, Usagi was still an outlier. A polar bear who was afraid of the water, who had never learned to swim, she had been abandoned by her fellow bears, and somehow found herself in the fold of Mina and Haruka’s strange family. She was a bit of a crybaby, it could be said, and often was, by many creatures, multiple times over, as if to ensure you never forgot.

For all of those reasons, she was here now, licking Haruka with fervor. “Your poor shoulder!”

“Usagi,” Haruka stepped to the left, out of the line of fire, “I’m okay.”

“A little wet, maybe.” Mina quipped from a safe distance.

Usagi chatted happily to Mina about her exciting day of hiding out behind the fishpacking plant, but Haruka just walked to the bow of the boat and looked at Nome in the fading light.

Michiru. She was a beautiful dog, with soft and glossy fur and eyes that seemed to know everything, but would never tell you. To be so near her today, to have Michiru favor her with kindness, it felt magical and dangerous and oh so forbidden, but oh so longed for. Maybe there was one dog who could do something other than snap at her.

“You’ve seen that town every day of your life, and you’re looking at it like a castle just popped out of the snow,” Mina waddled up next to her, “That girl.”

Haruka gave an embarrassed chuckle.

“Haruka, I spend most of my life trying to tell you not to do things, I think we can both agree,” she put a wing around her, “And now I’m telling you to do something. Go to her. Be chivalrous, give her some romance. God knows she’s had enough sleaze from Naoko.”

“Naoko’s a champion. And I’m half-wolf.”

“Naoko’s an asshole, and there is no one else like you.”

Haruka looked over to Mina. There was kindness and a bit of fear in her eyes, sending Haruka off to ask for something that couldn’t be guaranteed yet again, after she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. She must believe it, if she would risk Haruka’s heart.

“Oh yes!” Usagi hugged Haruka tightly. “Of course she’ll love you! You are so handsome, and brave, and strong, and good! You are the best dog ever!”

“Okay, okay,” Haruka loosed herself from Usagi’s grip. “I’ll go.”

She had trotted off toward Nome, not knowing what the one choice of a night would lead to.

The race was about to begin.

Michiru made a small promise to fate, that if Naoko could bring back the medicine and save Hotaru, she would give herself over. It was a fair enough exchange, and the least she could do, however she felt about Haruka now, and the softness of her fur, and the confused, hurt desire to be good that lay in her eyes.

Sacrifices always had to be made, and she wasn’t willing to sacrifice Hotaru.

And there she was. Haruka, standing by the line, just a little in hiding, waiting for the race to start. Every man around her would kick her and shoo her if they noticed her, but by the determined look in her eyes, it seemed to no longer matter. Haruka was trying to save the children of this town, even if she stood nothing to gain by it.

Michiru felt a twinge of pain behind her chest. Love was not the symphony she had expected, but a series of strange notes, trying to become a harmony. Love. It felt silly to say that, but every time she found herself in Haruka’s presence, the feeling only grew stronger. Her heart was a kite on a gale of wind, growing ever-higher, and Haruka was wolf-dog, but she possessed a nobility like no purebred she’d known. Not one of breeding, but of her very soul.

It was romantic and silly and dizzying, and she found herself remembering Haruka, snatching the hat from the snow, and hoped she would be the one to save Hotaru.

Ideally, of course, Hotaru would not have needed to be saved in the first place, but life often does not leave us in the ideal situation, and one night had changed her course in more than one way.

Michiru had not been entirely certain what to think, hidden as she was from the inner workings of the doctor’s office, but through the glass she could see Hotaru coughing, harder than she ever had before, and she thought of how hot her skin her skin had felt when she had hugged Michiru, and how many children stood in the waiting room with her, and Michiru felt something very uneasy settle in her stomach.

Hotaru was called to the examination room, and Michiru whirled around the side of the building, looking for the window to Hotaru. She had to find out what was wrong, what she was dealing with, and how soon it all would be well. It all had to be well, the humans had so many medicines and devices, and Hotaru was from well-regarded family, and so everything would be fine, and Michiru was just being a bit silly.

She observed that telling yourself something many times does not always make it true.

She found the window, but without the words, it was nothing, just her staring again at Hotaru and looking for the answer. She felt a wild panic rise inside of her, the fear of all unknown, as she stared and stared and stared, locked in place like a snowman in January.

A throat cleared behind her.

“Michiru?” Haruka was there, looking at her hopefully, but she could not take her mind from her work.

“Hello, Haruka,” She said softly, turning back to the window.

“I, uh,” Haruka continued, “I don’t know if you have any kind of plans, but, you know out on the edge of town there’s this great place to sort of, watch the sea and chase a few rabbits, gnaw a bone, and I was gonna go do that, and then I was like,” Michiru barely heard her, looking through the glass, trying to read what the doctor was saying, “oh man, maybe Michiru’s never been out here, I think she’d like it, it’s pretty and she’s, you know, pretty and I was wondering….Michiru?”

“Hotaru’s in there.”

Haruka trotted up next to her. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I have no earthly idea, there’s no way to hear through this glass,” She looked at Haruka, “She seems so gravely ill, and so do the other children, and,” she near-growled in unladylike frustration, “all I can do is stand here and know nothing.”

“I can help with that,” Haruka supplied eagerly, “When you have to sneak around everywhere, you…learn to sneak around everywhere.”

She led Michiru around the back of the small hospital, where she easily picked apart the door hinge and slid inside.

“Under here,” she whispered, “just follow me.”

It was dank and dirty underneath the hospital, and Michiru found herself wincing as she nearly crawled on her belly in places, through the tattered garbage and cobwebs.

“I know how to show a lady a good time,” Haruka laughed awkwardly, “but no, let me show you something really beautiful, just right here.”

There was a shaft of light from the grate in the floor, and Haruka gathered a pile of broken bottles.

“Ah,” Michiru sat in the larger clearing, looking at her in disbelief, “Yes, I did notice there simply wasn’t enough garbage down here.”

Haruka shrugged, “Sure, it’s just garbage, if you don’t look at it right.”

With a wave of her tail, she cast the light from above onto the bottle, and their light on the wall, in pinks and blues and greens and golds, was a sight Michiru had not seen since her days as a puppy.

“Oh Haruka, it’s stained glass! I used to think that was the loveliest feature,” She sighed happily, for one moment forgetting her recent troubles, for one moment letting herself fall a little bit in love, “I haven’t seen it in years.”

“Mina used to say it was the way the sunset looks over the sea. I think it looks like the Northern Lights.”

Michiru looked at her with the same reverence as the stained glass. “Every beauty looks quite different in another dog’s eyes, does it not?”

Haruka gave a little snort of embarrassment, and backed up a bit, when the thunderous footfalls of the men above moved to the office, and Haruka and Michiru moved with them.

“It’s diptheria,” the doctor slumped down into his chair.

“Oh!” Haruka turned to Michiru, “they have a cure for that.”

“She the 18th case this week.”

“So all the kids are gonna be just f–”

“And I’m out of anti-toxin.”

Michiru was somewhat accustomed to disappointment and surprise in her life, but nothing could have prepared her for the hammer’s blow of this reality, and she fled from it, running back through the garbage and cobwebs into the boiler room, trying to keep her heart in her own chest.

“Michiru!” Haruka followed after her, voice filled with regret, “I’m so fucking stupid sometimes, I never should have taken you down–”

“No, no,” she shook her head sadly, “Thank you.”

Haruka nodded. “They’ll get more medicine. There’s the airplanes, and boats, they come right into Nome, I see it every day!” She took a step toward Michiru. “It’ll be okay, Michiru. I promise. Hotaru will be okay.”

Michiru looked up at her and saw only earnestness and belief, something so foolish and beautiful she almost felt it were real.

A crash through the door disturbed the tender moment. Naoko, with a line of sausages around her neck, swanning through the door towards Michiru.

“Careful, Michiru, she’s part wolf. She might,” Naoko smiled, “assault you, or something. You know how they are. But,” she wound part of the sausages around Michiru’s neck, “I am, as always, here to help. And if you start at one end, I start at the other.”

Michiru felt Haruka bristle, and her her low growl, and it had not escaped Michiru’s notice that she had cuts and bites from whatever she had doubtless gotten into with Naoko’s gang after the race today. And Michiru was not so stupid as to imagine they would let Haruka escape with her life, if they caught her attacking a prized dog like Naoko, that golden calf no one could so much as criticize.

No. That would not do. Michiru had experienced quite enough disappointments today.

She smiled and sidled up to Naoko’s side.

“You are correct, of course,” She brushed her tail against Naoko’s seductively, “but I do so enjoy the thrill of the chase, the pursuit.”

“Yes.” Naoko grinned slyly, shooting a look of triumph at Haruka.

Haruka looked at Michiru, confused and hurt, as Michiru tried to give her a raise of the eyebrow, anything, to show that she had a plan, and could only hope Haruka understood.

“However,” She rubbed against Naoko, backing her up, “I do love my meat…cooked.”

She took one more step forward, and naoko was backed into the boiler, the results immediate. Naoko howled angrily, and Michiru ran back to Haruka’s side, both of them breaking through the door back out toward the alleyway, Naoko behind them, tackling them both at the edge of the door.

“Who’s there?” A man’s voice came out of the darkness, and a beam of light followed it.

Michiru nosed at Haruka, and the two of them began to slip away into the darkness, Michiru leading Haruka back toward her home.

Michiru felt Haruka fall behind her as Naoko threw the sausages in desperation, catching them around Haruka’s legs, Naoko’s bark coming sharp behind them as she pretended to alert the men.

The beam of light fell on Haruka as she laid in the snow, the victim of another crime that had not a thing to do with her.

“Haruka’s got to your meat locker, looks like.” It was Michiru’s man, and she had never hated her owner in the way she hated him now, for being so blind to Naoko’s ways, for blaming Haruka, who had never done a thing.

“Good thing Naoko was here,” the butcher patted Naoko’s head in warmth, and Michiru watched Haruka’s face fall, “Go on, eat those. Can’t sell them after they’ve been touched by that thing.”

If Michiru felt she could not hate her man more intensely, she was about to be proven wrong.

“Go on!” He kicked Haruka, and she yelped, running down the alleyway.

Michiru tried to follow, but he grabbed her by the collar and held her fast, dragging her back toward home. She swallowed her hate and her sadness, and walked alongside, her man turning to the butcher and giving a horrible proclamation.

“Might have to do with her what we did with the mother.”

That night began and ended in darkness, with no sign of light, as Michiru thought of Haruka’s promise, turning it over and over in her heart.

The race was about keeping a promise, Haruka thought as she crouched low on the line, at the very edge, trying to blend in.

You see, Haruka had lied to Michiru.

The ice had been too thick for the boats to get through, and the wind had been too high for the airplanes, and with every new announcement, Haruka felt more and more a liar, more and more as if she had betrayed Michiru when it mattered most.

Then the anti-toxin had gotten to Nenana.

The announcement in the town square, that there would be a race for the fastest dogs to make the team, to bring back the anti-toxin.

Haruka felt every ounce of determination in her swell, and she knew she had to be on that team. She had to be part of making things true for Michiru. She had to save Hotaru. She had to save the town. She had to know, even if no one else did, that she could do one great thing in this world, that she was half a wolf and half a dog and all herself, and that was enough.

And at that point, it no longer mattered what Mina said on the topic, and they could shoot her dead as her mother, but she would be on that team.

Listening to Hotaru cough and sputter, seeing the worry in Michiru’s eyes and the little coffins stacked, so newly made that the scent of sawdust still lingered in the air, all whispered through Haruka’s mind as she stood, muscles trembling, waiting to launch herself through the snow.

_“It’ll be okay, Michiru. I promise. Hotaru will be okay.”_

Haruka was going to keep that promise, or die trying. The gun rang in her ears, the sound that had begun the race of her life, and if the shot had been meant for her, she could not have run any faster.


End file.
